


Wonderwalls

by stardustruby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Castiel & Charlie Bradbury Friendship, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Young, Depressed Dean, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, First Kiss, First Meeting, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mental Hospital, Mentally Ill Cas, Mentally Ill Dean, Original Character(s), Shy Castiel, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Suicidal Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-21 05:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2457302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustruby/pseuds/stardustruby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is here by choice. Dean is not.</p><p>What started as a call for help and recovery from one, and a death wish from the other, turns into a much more controlled fight between what they want, what they need, who they were, and what they've become.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Group

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This warnings may change later in the story. The rating may also change. 
> 
> This started as me writing about myself; the part where Dean is talking about his childhood was a random paragraph about myself I wrote down on some loose paper. I don't know why but I decided to make a fic out of it. So many of Dean and Castiel's feelings and some little facts may be my own. 
> 
> Let me know what you guys think, and if you like it, leave me a sweet little comment about where chapter 2 should start: from Dean's therapy or stay on Cas's point of view.

_“And if all goes right_  
 _This will be the end of sleepless nights_  
 _With my headphones on_  
 _The same damn song_  
 _Playing on repeat the whole night long”_  
　　Map and Compass by As It Is

“Alright, Dean, let’s get started.”

They always said that. Those exact words.

“Start where?”

“How about when you first remember feeling or thinking this way.”

They always wanted to start there.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Castiel got to the group early. He usually did. He didn’t like to waste time. When he got to the library, all the chairs were empty. Castiel loved the library. He loved to read, and there were hundreds of books here. Also, it was the only room here that had carpeting.

He sat the farthest away from Charlie’s chair; he didn’t want to have any questions asked of him today. The sounds of the old school record player could be heard coming in from the common room, where most people were sitting around on the worn blue couches, or in the hard plastic chairs of the same color in front of tables with board games. Castiel told only stand the music for so long; the only records they had were the hits of Boston and Oasis. Not that he didn’t like the music, just not consistently, every single day. Like spaghetti dinner; it was good but having it every night for weeks could make your stomach heave every time you saw it or smelt it. Castiel was lost in his memories of his mother’s homemade spaghetti dinner when he heard his name.

“Castiel.”

He jumped up a little and looked up from where his eyes had been trained on the floor at his feet to see that the circle of chairs had been filled up and Charlie was there, her clipboard resting on her lap. His effort to avoid questions hardly ever worked. Castiel cleared his throat and looking around before looking at Charlie head on, his fingers fidgeting at the strands of his pale blue robe. Everything was blue here.

“Yes?”

“We were all just wondering what you were thinking about when you were dazed out.”

Castiel’s fingers started to move faster, moving over the robe strands. All the eyes in the room moved to him, waiting. Jo was tapping her foot next to him, Ash had his elbows on his knees, ready to listen. Everyone else was just looking at him. Castiel cleared his throat again, and looked down. He slowly took off his robe and laid it over his lap, showing off his favorite gray long sleeve. They had to where long sleeves.

“I, um, was thinking about my mom.”

“What about her?” Charlie shot back. While Castiel was quiet and didn’t like to speak, Charlie was able to come up with a quick response. Charlie was a nurse who was also in charge of a few of the patient groups. She had always like Castiel. 

Castiel didn’t like attention.

“Her dinners. She always-”

He was cut short as soon as his voice had started to gain volume, when he had started to grow confident in himself.

The door had opened to the library, making a terrible squeaking noise. Everyone hated it, but nobody ever fixed it.

All the eyes in the room left Castiel and made their eyes to the two people walking into the room, one in white wash shoes and another in shoelace free, faded black converse.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“When I was younger, a kid, I never thought about it. Never. I don’t remember thinking much really. I remember the days, all rambled up together, not full days, or weeks, but moments in a day. Like watching a show or a moment outside. I don’t remember thoughts or conversions. I couldn’t sit here and tell you conversions that my parents had. But I know that I never thought about it. I never thought about killing myself. Or death. Not once.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Castiel was looking too, and was surprised to see a new patient so late in the day. It was Bobby, the caretaker they called him, all of them, even though there was an official name for him somewhere. The man next to him was looking back at everyone, no nervousness in his eyes or his step. His converse hit the floor without hesitation, and Castiel tried not to stare at him.

“Sorry to burst in, Charlie, but we got one more for you.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Charlie smiled at them both, standing up and walking around her chair to stand in front of the boy. “Hi, I’m Charlie.” She held out her hand.

Castiel could feel it. The silence, the caught of breath. A church full of sinners waiting for the amen. Everyone was waiting.

The man looked down at Charlie’s hand and looked like he really thought about it before reaching forward and shaking it. Castiel felt everyone breathe out, including himself. The second he did, though, the man’s eyes shot straight to his and Castiel caught his breath again halfway. _“Stop staring, stop starting at me, stop.”_ A trail of stops ran through Castiel’s head as he stared back, taking in the man’s gray sweats that he had obviously just gotten, and a pale blue robe that looked just like his thrown over his shoulder. They all had the same sweets and robes. Only their shirts and shoes were different, and the shirts told everything. 

“Dean.” The man said to Charlie, finally looking away from Castiel, and back to Charlie. When he had finally looked at Charlie, Castiel looked back at his spot on the floor, slowly breathing in and then out. In and then out.

“Well, Dean you can go and sit in the chair next to me.”

Dean nodded, and walked past her and her chair to the last empty seat in the circle. He leaned back, his ankles crossed. Everyone’s eyes were on him, everyone but Castiel.

_In and then out._

Castiel heard Charlie come back to her chair and Bobby’s slow footsteps leading out back to his seat in the common room.

“Alrighty, everyone, this is Dean.” Dean’s eyes looked up at her, along with Castiel’s.

“Dean, would you like to tell us anything, a small something about you, why you’re here...”

Charlie trailed off and Castiel felt himself flinch. He hated that question. “Why are you here?” Charlie always asked the new people, she had asked him and he always flinched. It felt so cold to him, even though the person didn’t have to share. He always wished in his head that they wouldn’t. 

But they always did.

And from the shirt that Dean- Castiel had trouble putting the name into a sentence in his mind- was wearing, he knew the reason.

_In and then out._

Dean looked around the group, at all the eyes focused on him, waiting still. They were always waiting. If nobody was talking, they were waiting. If someone was talking, they were waiting. Always.

“If this is the group I think it is, then I think everyone knows why I’m here.”

“Well, yes and no. What group do you think it’s for?”

Dean pulled at the ends of his red long sleeves, covering his hands.

“It’s for depression and suicidal acts, isn’t it?”

_In and then out._

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Now it’s all I think about.”


	2. Lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is not very good, mostly because I wasn't sure where to start this chapter, and also because I'm posting this as I watch the new episode so I can't focus on editing. I'll get to it later, after the episode. Let me know what you guys think, and a new update will be here soon.

Castiel walked out of the library and started towards the lunch room. He didn’t want to think about the last hour, about the content stare and how he wanted to stand up and run out of the room. But while he was in line, that’s where his mind went. 

The group had gone slowly, as Charlie asked Dean a lot of questions about himself, even though he hardly answered, which surprised Castiel; most people answered Charlie. Dean spent the whole hour staring at Castiel, however, after Charlie had given up on trying to get him to talk about why he was here. Castiel would stare at his shoes, and if he looked up for a second, Dean’s eyes would be stuck on him. He would feel his face get red and then it was back to staring at his shoes. He couldn’t when. He made sure he was the last out of the library though.

The line moved forward, and when he was next to get food, Castiel realized he wasn’t hungry. But he had to eat. Taking the small styrofoam tray without looking at the food. Turning around to face the tables, he made his way to the back of the room, his steps quick. The room wasn’t much bigger than a small town’s high schools. There were only four tables, one in the very back. That was Castiel’s table. Nobody looked up from their trays as he walked past them. They all knew where he was going.

But when he got there, he almost dropped his tray. But he hung tight to it, knowing it would splatter everywhere. Splatter was mess and mess meant attention. He didn’t want attention.

There was someone sitting in one of the six seats at the table, their back facing Castiel. And from the color of the shirt, he knew exactly who it was.

All of a sudden, Castiel felt it. His blood rushing, rising. His grip on the tray tightening. This.... _guy_ had just shown up here and now he thinks he can just sit in his seat? The room was shrinking and the walls were just around him and this _guy_ , this _guy_ that had made him want to hide for over an hour straight, and now was taking up his space. He felt as if was taller, stronger. He wanted to throw, kick something. He wasn’t flattered, he wasn’t understanding. He was angry. So angry, that it seemed to overtake his body, make him more than what he really was. He felt everything rush up to the surface.

The tray cracked. 

The whole lunch room- all 13 patients- stopped talking and stopped eating, some with the little plastic spoons that they had halfway to their mouths. There wasn’t much talking to start with, so the crack of the styrofoam echoed throughout the room. Everyone stopped to stare at the man who never talked, make a noise much more than just speaking. Castiel hardly noticed them. 

The tray cracked more, starting from where his hand was, toward the middle of the tray.

Finally, the last one to look, the _guy_ \- Castiel couldn't make himself form his name in his mind- turned around in the seat, Castiel’s seat, his table, to look at him. His emerald eyes shined up at Castiel, and Castiel thought he saw a smirk at the ends of his mouth.

The tray split completely in half. 

When it reached the floor, Castiel finally saw it. Some chicken and mashed potatoes. He didn’t really like either.

Castiel looked up from the food to the _guy_ , anger shining right back.

“That’s my seat.”

“Um, excuse me?” Dean asked, not being able to hear the man’s quiet voice from where he was sitting. A look into the man’s eyes showed anger, flashing through them, and Dean almost laughed. The man’s eyes were too blue for that anger.

“I said...that’s my seat.”

At the last word, Castiel did the one thing that he wanted: kick. He kicked a part of the broken tray as hard as his anger let him, sending the food forward. It all happened at once.

The food went forward, Dean jumped up, and Bobby rushed to Castiel.

The food hit the back of the chair, hard enough to go through the openings in the back to reach Dean’s shirt, covering the whole front of it in potatoes and peaches from the little fruit cup. As he jumped up, the whole lunch room laughed, echoing throughout the room. Bobby rushed forward from his spot by the door, waiting for something to happen. He rushed to Castiel, pulling him out of the room, but Castiel’s eyes never left Dean.

Dean stared right back, not sure what had happened. All this over a seat. He wiped a few of the peaches from his shirt to the floor, and leaned back on the table. Soon, a nurse came in and took him to get a new shirt, patients still laughing at him as he left the room. While going through the bag that he had brought with him in his too white, too small room, pulling out a new long sleeve, all he could think of were those anger filled, blue eyes. 

They haunted him for the rest of the day.


	3. Romeo and Juliet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terrible, I know this is so late, but I just had so much going on, my own depression was tearing me apart and I just had no motivation to write. But now I have this chapter for you guys, which is so much better than the last chapter, and hopefully I'll have another one for you soon. Thank you if you're still reading, and thank you for all the kudos, I love you all!

_“Didn’t they tell us_  
 _Don’t rush into things_  
 _Didn’t you flash your green eyes at me_  
 _Haven’t you heard what becomes of curious minds”_  
　　 **\- Wonderland Taylor Swift**

 

The next time Castiel sees Dean again, he’s sitting at a table in the library. Only a day after the lunch problem, Castiel had started to feel bad while sitting in his room alone for the rest of yesterday. Bobby had locked him in, bringing him a new tray from lunch, a tray for dinner but other than that, he had been alone with his thoughts all day. For hours he was angry; then after one in the morning, he realized how immature and- go figure- crazy he had acted. 

_“I’m a terrible person anyways,”_ He thought, standing at the door of the library. _“Just add this to the crazy list.”_

All he could see is Dean with a book in his hands, talking to somebody in the chair next to him, a chair and person Castiel can’t see. Castiel’s head turned at the sound of Dean’s laugh. Had Dean made friends already? Or was it a visitor....but visitors were only suppose to show up on Thursdays. It was Monday. Castiel took a deep breath, and took a step into the room, ready to apologize, and probably make a fool of himself.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean laughed again. 

“There’s no way!”

“I swear, she came out into the living room in a cow onesie, no joke.”

“Jess did that, ohmygod!”

Dean and Sam laughed together over the little story. Sam’s hair hung in front of his face, his eyes bright. Dean looked at his brother and was overwhelmed with the fact that besides him being here, Sam was happy. Little Sammy was happy for the first time, with a beautiful wife.

After a few more seconds of laughter, they settled down, and Sam clasp his hands together and Dean knew it was time to be serious. His big smile faded and he looked at the carpet. 

“So, how long do you think you’re going to be in here?”

Did it really have to be this question?

“I’m not sure.”

“Have you seen the therapist or whatever he’s called?”

“Yeah, he just wanted to know the basics.”

“Like?”

“Like why I’m here and such- look if you want to know all this, then why don’t you go ask mom, she put me here in the first place.”

Sam sighed and leaned his arm on the table.

“You know I can’t do that,” He almost whispered.

"Actually no, Sam, I don't."

\-------------------------------------------------------

As Cas made his way through the library to where Dean was sitting, he saw his smile drop. Dean’s face was the amount of sadness and hopelessness that Castiel saw in his mirror. All of a sudden, Dean was staring back at him, and Castiel stopped in his tracks, ready to bolt.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

“Who’s that?” Sam asked looking around the book shelf to see who Dean had all his attention on.

“Uh, Castiel. The one that almost got in a fight with me yesterday?” 

“Kicking food isn’t a fight.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay,” Sam said, holding up his hands and then standing up. “Well, it looks like he wants to talk to you, so I’m going to take off, okay? I’ll be back later, I promise.”

Sam walked behind Dean, putting his hand on his shoulder before walking past his and then past Castiel, giving him a simple nod. Castiel didn’t even react.

\------------------------------------------------------------

Castiel finally started walking forward and when he got to the table, he and Dean were still staring at each other. Castiel fumbled over what to say first.

“I...uh, I....I’m sorry.” 

Dean’s eyebrows went up and he crossed his arms, and pouted his lips a bit.

“You think you kicking peaches at me can be forgiven with a simple sorry.”

Castiel almost cried. He had tried so hard to get here, across this room, to a man he didn’t know, and now he was being shut down.

“I...um...I just thought...I...” Castiel stuttered. He turned a bit, almost ready to run. Dean noticed, and held out his hand. 

“Wait, I...I just meant that I would like it if you would sit down with me. Talk to me.” He offered a small smile to try and tell the other man he wasn’t angry.

Castiel seemed wary but finally sat in Sam’s seat, on the very edge, ready to take off if need be.

Dean nodded his head, and leaned back in his chair, his book sitting in front of him. 

“I’m sorry I took your seat.”

Dean spoke first, breaking the rough silence. 

“You don’t have to be, it was my fault.” Castiel took a deep breath after the sentence. He was starting to get comfortable and that scared him.

“Still. I upset you, and I’m sorry.” Dean gave another smile, and Castiel tried to return it, and just barely manged. But he was too busy staring at Dean’s green eyes. 

That was okay, because Dean was staring at Castiel’s blue ones.

“Um, so who were you talking to?”

Castiel asked, unable to let the silence keep up. He was slowly moving back to lean in his chair.

“Oh, my brother. He just came to visit for awhile.”

“Older or younger?”

“Younger, even though he’s tall enough to be a few years older.” Dean gave a half laugh. He picked up his book, and made the cover face Castiel.

“Ever read it?”

“Romeo and Juliet? Never, actually but I know the basic story.” Castiel replied, his voice gaining more volume. He was thinking through what Dean had said about his brother, and it didn’t make sense to him-

“Huh. You should, it’s not half bad,” Dean muttered, interrupting Castiel’s thoughts. “Even thought it’s kinda...”

“Depressing,” Castiel answered absently, staring towards the shelves.

Dean looked down at the book, his fingers picking at the edge of the worn top.

“Yeah, depressing.”

It just didn’t make sense, Castiel’s thoughts raced. Was it just him, or was it Dean? He looked towards the back of the library. There was no exit back there. 

“Why are you here?”

Dean’s voice broke made Castiel turn back to his.... _”what even is he?”_ Castiel thought. _“A friend? No.”_

“What?”

“Why are you here?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes and sat straight up, on the edge of his chair again.

“Why are you here?”

As if neither of them had guessed yesterday morning.

Dean’s jaw clenched, his right hand reflexively pulling on the sleeve of his already pulled down long sleeve shirt, and Castiel knew he hit a nerve. _“Well, that’s perfectly fine, because he hits every single one of mine.”_

“Touche, Cas. Touche.”

Dean stood up, his chair scooting back a bit, and he slid the book across the table to Castiel. Castiel watched it slide to him, and then looked up at Dean.

“Read it. Even if it is depressing. Just be happy that you get to take your time and enjoy it instead of being forced at a school to read it.”

Then he turned and walked away, towards the front doors of the library, and giving Castiel a small wave before be walked out, leaving Castiel to wonder about everything that was Dean.

“Cas...” He muttered to himself, turning over the nickname only one other person had ever used.


End file.
